The Not Quite Midnight Meeting
by massivelyattacked
Summary: Support for the mage underground comes from some strange places.  Despite paranoia and concerns for his own safety, Anders prepares to meet with a new supporter of the cause despite his own uncertainty.  One shot; rated T for minor language.


_Fifth day, Cloudreach. Meet me at dusk._

So read the note with hastily written directions as accompaniment that Anders penned. They were in response to a missive he received from Mistress Selby, the woman who had most recently acted as the veiled face of the mage underground. She had passed along the information by way of parchment which he burned to ashes without delay once read. He would never forget what it said…

_Many have ways of making people disappear. But few can make it seem that they didn't exist in the first place. I represent several interested parties. I can help you. And most importantly, no one will know. Name your place._

_~ The Prevaricator_

Some may have taken it as a threat – being made to disappear with no trace. But he knew better. "The Prevaricator" had been referring to the mages of the Circle, and they were the ones that _wanted_ to disappear. Or at least he _hoped_ that's who was being referred to.

Anders glanced nervously through the windows of his Darktown clinic. The sky had begun to darken and the time was coming where he would meet the unknown…benefactor. He considered that perhaps he should have spoken to someone about the meeting. That way, if something went wrong and he was actually being lured into a trap, he at least might have stood a chance of surviving. Too late to dwell on such minor details now.

He was not completely unprepared though – he'd have never chosen a location that did not provide him with some advantage. And his advantage was a scoped out cubby-hole adjacent to a stairway. A perfect location for affording him a view of the approaching individual…or would there be more? He hoped there wouldn't – just in case things did get a tad bit hairy. No, everything would be fine. Maker knows, the mages barely know about the underground resistance, let alone any of the templars. This was going to be a legitimate offer of assistance. He was sure of it.

When the last of the patients exited the clinic, he immediately gathered a small stock of poultices and his staff. He hurried through the dark passages of the Undercity to the site his directions would lead the mystery collaborator. Shadows followed him and whispers surrounded him. His nerves were on the verge of making him crack over this meeting. Maker, what was he doing? Was this really the smartest idea? Better than pining over Hawke for another lonely night, he figured.

His arrival at the small cubby-hole was met with nothing…for the moment. He slid into the recess in the wall and waited. This area in Darktown was quiet…he chose it for just that reason. But it made the seconds turn into minutes as the time passed at a sluggish pace. He scanned the section of the underground in front of him for movement…kept his ears open for sounds. Dusk must have come and gone already, he estimated. Leaning out just beyond the reaches of the alcove, he stopped. Someone was coming. He could hear faint footfalls steadily approaching. Shortly after, a shadow came into view. The silhouette was tall, slender. He could not tell if the person was male or female. What he could tell was that they were suspicious. He got the feeling that they were trying to sneak around – constantly seeing the figure stop in place, spinning around and waiting, as if listening for something. Eventually the figure came into view – it was a man. Much younger than he expected considering the inference in the note he received. He watched as the young man pulled what appeared to be just the note he had penned from his pockets. He unfolded it, read the contents intently and locked around. The man appeared to look satisfied…perhaps that he was in the right place.

Anders was just about to step out from his hiding place, when he heard a sharp hissing noise, followed by the man grunting, and collapsing to his knees. The mage froze in place, noticing another shadow entering the space from where the young man originally entered. This shadow was stouter…thicker than that of the buckled man on the ground. The second individual approached slowly, slinging whatever weapon he – or was it she? – was carrying over their back. As the person neared the man, Anders heard a grunt – definitely male. And angry.

_Fantastic. I'm going to die. In Darktown. Alone. All because the man I was supposed to meet with was slaughtered by this…this angry grunting little thing_, Anders thought to himself.

He began to think about the companions who had grown to become friends and wondered if anyone would find him. His thoughts drifted to Hawke. Her lovely smile. Her soft touch. And that arse. He began to lament about how he might never see or feel any of that ever again, but was interrupted by a voice.

"Steal from me again, you pathetic excuse for a pickpocket, and the next time, the bolt hits your heart and not your shoulder," came the voice from the angry individual. Anders watched as he pulled the bolt from the man on the floor, who proceeded to scamper away quickly. The figure leaned over and picked up the note from the ground, placing it into his pocket. "Little shit!"

But there was no denying it – Anders knew exactly who the voice belonged to.

"Varric?" he called out from the shadows.

The dwarf turned towards his location.

"Somehow I knew it was going to be you Blondie," he said, smirking.

Anders moved into the dim light where the dwarf could see him.

"What…what are you talking about?" he asked.

"Your note," Varric replied. "This whole mage underground thing has you written _all_ over it."

"You? You're…the Prevaricator?" he questioned.

"One and the same," he said proudly. "Admit that you like how I worked my name in there…"

"How you…oooh…Varric, the Prevaricator. Right. Why, that's a little stroke of genious," Anders said. He was amused at the dwarf's wit, even in concealment. "But, I thought…"

"What? You thought that little piss ant was the one you were meeting?" Varric chortled. "Ha! Your resistance would be desperate indeed if you were accepting help from the likes of that one."

"True enough," he replied. "But then…you _did_ allow him to swipe the note from you in the first place."

"And, I caught the bastard, didn't I?" the dwarf shot back.

"That you did," the mage replied. "Though I must confess. Where you were certain I would be involved, you aren't exactly in my top ten list of people I expected to want to throw your lot in with this cause."

"What can I say, Blondie?" Varric says. "You make me do crazy things."

"Oh, Varric. You're not really my type."

Varric chuckles. "Look, I just know that you're very concerned with what's been going on with the Circle. Between you, Daisy and Hawke, half of our crew could be forced to be a part of that place if we were unlucky. I know that the mages are facing insurmountable odds for a chance at freedom. We all deserve that chance. Besides…you know me and authority. I need to buck it every so often, or else I get a little crazy."

"Why Varric…it's almost as if you do have a heart underneath all that chest hair," Anders joked.

"The chest hair is what keeps my heart so warm," Varric said seriously. Anders groaned before the dwarf continued. "Annnnnnd Hawke may have had a little something to do with my decision as well."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, if I were a betting man – and since you know me, you know the answer to that one – I would wager that she has a little thing for you," Varric said.

"I doubt that," Anders said, shaking his head.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have been mistaken when I thought you had two eyes on that big hot air-filled head of yours. Have you _met_ the woman?"

"Varric, stop. There's nothing between us," he insisted.

"And that's not what I said," the dwarf continued, "but from your reaction, I can tell that maybe you have a little thing for her too."

Anders turned away from him. "Maybe we should just talk about why we came here in the first place."

"Sure Blondie," Varric replied. "I actually have quite a network of merchant friends, despite my lack of enjoyment of the whole guild thing. The merchants usually want help with things like potion preparation. Some of them head out of the city for months at a time. It'd be very easy for them to sneak out a mage or two at a time. Give them a job on their way out of town. Drop them off in a nearby village. And I have contacts outside of the city too. They could help get the mages set up. Help them hide out until other arrangements could be made."

"Varric…that's outstanding! Why did you never tell me of this before?" he asked.

"Fenris would never let me hear the end of it," the dwarf said.

"Ah, yes. Of course," Anders replied. "Um…hmm…"

"What?"

"You really think Hawke might…have a thing, as you said?"

"I _knew_ it!" Varric cried out.

"Don't make this harder than it is," Anders pleaded. "I used to be very good at this sort of thing."

"What? Love 'em and leave 'em?" he asked.

"Hmm…yes I suppose that _is_ what it used to be like," he said. "But I don't want to do that in this situation. I really like Hawke. She deserves more."

Varric furrows his brow. "Look Blondie, and I'm only saying this because I like you, and you're being incredibly pathetic right now. I can help you out – besides with this whole mage smuggling enterprise, I mean. Maybe I let it slip to Hawke that you need to talk to her about something important. Maybe I tell her to go to see you at your clinic one night after you're finished with your patients. And maybe when she gets there, you're sprawled out on one of the treatment tables wearing nothing but your knickers and a smile."

"Dear Maker, Varric! Why do I even talk to you about this sort of thing!" Anders exclaims.

Varric chuckles heartily. "Well, the other option is that I just drop insanely obvious hints during the course of a conversation that we're involved with that the two of you are ridiculously perfect for each other. And then you'll be forced to respond to one her overtly blatant flirtations – that for some bizarre reason you are blind to on a regular basis."

Anders sighs. "Let's just get back to the mages."

"Okay," Varric replies. "And if by mages you mean yourself and Hawke…"

"I don't!" Anders cries.

Varric crouches to the ground and draws two circles; one very large, and another smaller one to the side. Anders is thankful that this appears to be the dwarf's way of getting at little more serious about the business at hand. In the centre of the large circle, he writes the letters f, u and n. Varric stands up and looks at Anders.

"What's that mean in the big circle?" Anders asks.

"Ahh…I'm glad you asked," Varric says. "I figured that you didn't know what it would mean. You see, the small circle represents you. The large circle represents f-u-n. That means fun. And _you_ sir, are no fun!"

Anders crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. "I knew you couldn't be serious about this…"

Varric smiles at Anders. "Relax Blondie. It's all out of my system now. I really do want to help with this underground mage resistance. I've got lots of resources."

"Thank you Varric," Anders replies. "That means a lot."

Varric nods. "But if you think I'm going to be your go between and start passing love notes to Hawke for you, you've got another thing coming."


End file.
